Secrets
by Dorku No Renkinjutsushi
Summary: James is good with secrets. RemusSirius, Marauders Era slash. Answer to a request on Fic on Demand


**Title:** Secrets  
**Author:** **creepycrawly**  
**Requestor:** **raphaellover**  
**Request:** Can be found here.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters/Those Involved:** James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius BlackxRemus Lupin  
**Warnings:** Slashy! Marauders era.  
**Disclaimer:**My name is not JK Rowling. And good thing, too, she doesn't write us enough Marauders. .  
**Summary:** James is good with secrets.

* * *

"Merlin…" Sirius breathes, looking over Remus's collapsed form. It's pale in the moonlight, blood and dirt and bruises showing up as great black marks against his skin. They're all naked as the day they were born, and the only thing hiding Remus's tired grin from the world at large is the dark, tangled curtain of his hair.

"'Snot…s'bad…s'loo's…" he slurs exhaustedly.

"Oh, hush up," James tells him, a note of affection weaving through his exasperation. "Say 'ahh'," he adds, hoisting a bottle of Dreamless Sleep.

Remus swallows it quickly out of habit, and Sirius catches him as his eyelids flutter and his head sags back. Carefully lowering his friend to the floor, he smiles across at James. "Where're our wands?"

"Right here," Peter pants, holding up their wands in one grimy hand. He's already got his clothes back on, something Sirius considers a small mercy. Not having a problem being starkers, though, he and James ignored the possibility of their own clothes, turning instead to the unconscious were-boy on the dusty ground.

"I'll do some work on his face," James sighs. "Do his arms?"

Sirius nods, lifting the bleeding left arm into his lap. Carefully spreading out Remus's scarred hand, he passes his wand over the weakened bones, strengthening them back up to normal. Next, he focuses on the bleeding wounds from where the werewolf tried to force his way out through a window.

Sirius remembers doing the "research" for healing this kind of thing. Namely, he remembers the look on Remus's face as he slammed a hand through the window in their dorm, then trotted down to see Madame Pomfrey—and to memorise the healing charm she used. It was worth the pain, because he can spare Remus some of it. And it's a useful charm, too.

"Have you ever wondered what determines your animal? When you become an Animagus, I mean," Peter murmurs, chewing on his fingernails, hunched up on a distant step.

James, glasses off and Temporary Vision Correction spell starting to wear off, squints at him. "Well, it reflects something about your…internal stuff, I guess."

"Ooh, poetic, Prongs," Sirius snickers, re-aligning Remus's wrist. "Do you romance Evans with that mouth?"

"And do more besides," James shoots back. "Well, think about it. I'm a stag, right? So I'm proud, and regal, and strong, and really cool looking."

"Ahhhh," Sirius remarks wisely. "It reflects your dreamscape, then."

"What would you know about a dreamscape, Padfoot?" James asks sarcastically. "You, who predicted to Professor Luole that the zit on his nose would pop before next class."

"And it did, so there," he says, absent-minded as he manually checks the situation with Remus's ribs. There're spells for that, sure, but nothing so definite as a practised human touch.

"Seriously, though," James continues, clearly warming to his subject. "How about you, Pads? You're fun-loving, and you love playing around. What's more of a joker than a dog? And you've got that long, shaggy hair that girls love—and so does the dog. _And_ you're the only one that the wolf pays any attention to."

He says this last part like it is the Truth to End All Truths.

Sirius scoffs. "Remus only pays attention to me to tell me to shut up and study already."

But James shakes his head. "Nah. He watches you when he thinks you aren't looking…he plans things. Kind of like the wolf. When it thinks that you—well, you as Padfoot—aren't paying him any attention, he starts stalking after you."

Wincing, Sirius rubs a sore shoulder. "I've noticed," he says shortly.

James rolls his eyes. He keeps his "no, you haven't," to himself, just as he keeps his comments about the way Sirius watches Remus and Remus watches Sirius, just as he keeps his comments about how Remus moans in his sleep, or how Sirius groans, or the names they moan when they come.

Let's face it.

James is good with secrets.


End file.
